Voldemort's house of prostitutes
by Netta Nicole
Summary: it is Draco's 18th bday, and gasp he's still a virgin. Who will Lucius employ to 'do the job? a dhr fanfic M for sexual content
1. In the Fencing Room

_**Welcome to Voldemort's House of Prostitutes! Please know I own none of these characters, and in fact at times my renditions may seem a little out of character. That's okay. Draco and Hermione are just going to have a little fun. **_

**VHP Chapter 1**

**By, Netta Nicole**

"Master I need your help," said Lucius Malfoy, entering a cold room in the Malfoy manor.

"What is it now Lucius?" asked the Dark Lord.

Lucius shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Volemort's eyes. "Well, tonight is my son, Draco's, 18th birthday---"

"And?" said Voldemort impatiently.

Lucius blushed sheepishly- most uncharacteristic. "He is, well, still a virgin, master."

"And what do you want me to do about it?" asked Voldemort lazily.

"I was hoping you could lend me one of your girls, only for one night, for Draco."

"Well, of course," said Voldemort with a dry hiss that was his version of a chuckle. "I will give him my finest. We will give him a night to remember."

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Hermione was awoken from her tortured sleep by a Death Eater. She could feel him roughly shake her shoulder through the thin fabric of her silk shift, and Hermione winced as he touched the dark bruises that she had acquired the night before.

"You have a job tonight," he said cruelly. Hermione didn't respond.

"Put these on, mudblood," he said, and flung the clothing onto her small bed. It was the classic leather and satin outfit that Hermione despised, but wizards tended to drool over.

She got up from the bed gingerly, trying not to further aggravate the bruises she had gotten from the wizard she 'serviced' last night. It had been Cornelius Fudge, in fact. Hermione laughed bitterly, it was funny how you could be applying for a job with him one week, and be forced to lay with him the next. She had no idea that the Minister was so turned on by violence. But then again, very little surprised her anymore.

God, how she hated them all. Voldemort, the Death Eaters, EVERYONE. Why weren't Harry and Ron here when she really needed them?

It had been their last year of Hogwarts when the Great War broke out. So many lives were sacrificed; Hermione still had nightmares of the grim battlefields. If she closed her eyes she could still see the lifeless bodies of her friends, her teachers, and her colleagues lying in the gray dirt.

For so much sacrifice, the outcome of the war had been reported as unclear. Voldemort's minions ruled, while the Order skulked in the shadows, trying to evade notice. Even though the Daily Prophet constantly wrote of the continuing resistance to the Dark Lord's power, Hermione thought that it was pretty clear who had lost in this situation.

"Hurry up!" said the death eater, pounding on the door.

This broke Hermione out of her reverie, and she sighed as she began changing and mentally preparing herself for the awful man she would surely service tonight.

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Draco was sitting at his desk in the study. His eighteenth birthday was tonight. He was sure father had some gruesome 'party' waiting for him.

_Probably just more murders and rapes of mudbloods for his enjoyment._ Draco winced at the thought of having to endure another one of these 'celebrations.' Who was he kidding? He didn't want any of this.

His father burst into the room. "Son, what do you think of a fencing lesson?"

"Sure father, whatever," said Draco, sighing as he got up from his desk, and briefly looked into the mirror that hung across the room.

He really was very handsome. Draco was wearing a white shirt that clung to his lean chiseled chest and highlighted his broad shoulders and narrow hips. But even though his body was something sculptors dreamed of, it was his face that set him apart. Draco had refined features that could both cause female's hearts to melt and could instill fear into their very core. Silver blonde hair often fell into his silver grey eyes, which were complimented by a sweep of dark lashes. His cool gaze was set above sharp, high cheekbones. A straight aquiline nose and strong jaw belied his impeccable ancestry.

Despite these undeniable physical attributes, Draco had remained a virgin all of these years. It wasn't as if the opportunity hadn't presented itself many, many times.

Draco's lack of sexual experience at the age of 18 was something that his father constantly berated him about. Lucius just didn't understand. Draco wasn't "saving it for marriage," or anything. He just didn't want to do it with any slytherin slut that came along.

"I will meet with you in the fencing room in ten minutes. Don't be late." There was an edge of anticipation in Lucius' voice that piqued Draco's interest.

"Yes father."

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Hermione studied her reflection in the small vanity mirror and put the finishing touches on herself. She was wearing a black and silver creation. A black satin corset embroidered with small silver stars, black fishnet stockings and black stiletto heels. Her lips were painted a dark, sultry red. Her hair was left loose, flowing chocolate curls with touches of honey that cascaded down her back.

And now for the finishing touch. Hermione brought up the silver mask and secured it to the back of her head with a black ribbon. All of the prostitutes were required to wear one of these masks at all times. They were enchanted to alter the features of the wearer just enough so that they would not be recognized while they were on the job. Hermione noticed the immediate change, as her chocolate and honey hair took on a darker chestnut hue.

The woman staring back at her in the mirror was gorgeous, Hermione admitted to herself, if a little slutty looking. But after all, she was a whore. Though not a willing one; Voldemort had to administer the imperious curse on her every night to ensure her loyalty.

As if he were listening to her thoughts, Voldemort burst into the room, not pausing before ruthlessly casting the imperious curse on the girl. He walked up to her, and gripped her chin, forcing her to look upwards into those horrible red eyes.

"Now listen to me mudblood, we have a very special guest tonight, and this would be his first time. You have to put out your best, and under no circumstances can you tell him who you are. Am I understood?"

Hermione attempted to glare at him for a moment, and then winced in pain. The imperious curse had apparently taken effect. She smiled at him sweetly and said, "Well of course master, anything for you."

She fingered his robes suggestively, and looked up at him through her lashes. On the outside she radiated sex goddess, but on the inside she was dying.

Voldemort smiled, showing yellow teeth. "Come my little mudblood. Your client is waiting."

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The fencing room in the Malfoy manor was one of the largest rooms in the house. It looked much like a dungeon except for the fact that the cold walls were lined with fencing blades, and there was a green leather chair near the center that Draco was currently sitting on.

Draco was elegantly sprawled on the chair, his right ankle crossed over his left knee. He ran a pale finger up and down his fencing blade impatiently. It had been fifteen minutes and his father had yet to arrive. Just then, the door opened slowly with a creak that resonated against the stone walls of the fencing room.

Draco quickly positioned his sword in a protective stance. "Father? Who's there?" he only heard a giggle in response.

"Show yourself, or I swear, I'll kill you." He got no response.

Draco looked around, and saw a glint of silver. He struck out, only to hit nothing but air. Then, someone stepped out from the shadows.

Draco immediately brought up his sharp sword to the unidentified person's neck. He realized it was a woman, and a very pretty woman at that, dressed like a hooker in black and silver clothes.

"You don't want to hurt little old me, do you?" the woman said in a singsong voice, touching the sword, and moving closer to the boy.

Hermione was surprised—this man was not nearly as old or as ugly as men she usually serviced. In fact, Hermione realized as she noticed the way his silver hair fell into his gray eyes that followed her every movement, he was incredibly good looking.

And then a shocking realization hit her. It was MALFOY. The bane of her existence, Malfoy. The one who had teased her mercilessly and had called her a mudblood countless times while they had been in school together.

And yet this revelation did nothing to stop her steady movement towards the man, and it did nothing to stop her sudden yearning need to reach out to him and feel the hard wall of his chest pressed against her body.

Hermione balked at herself. Where did that come from? This was Malfoy for Merlin's sake. It was the curse. It had to be.

She continued to step tantalizingly forward, her neck inches from the blade.

"Don't move any closer." Draco's voice sounded far less commanding. He was starting to lose control.

Hermione finally reached him, and brought up a finger to tantalizingly brush up Draco's outstretched arm.

"Is that what you really want?" whispered Hermione in his ear, her lips barely grazing his skin.

Draco was silent.

The mystery woman laughed. It was the sound of tinkling bells, one of the most beautiful sounds Draco had ever heard.

"That's what I thought." Hermione moved even closer, allowing her breasts to press against his chest. She could feel the heat of his body through the thin material of his t-shirt. Hermione pushed Draco gently back onto his chair.

She brought her face down to lightly lick his neck before blowing cool air onto his fevered skin. Draco shivered. Hermione continued her ministrations and lightly nipped his ear.

The sword dropped out of Draco's hand, clattering as it hit the floor.

"That's better." She said in a low, sexy voice. "Just relax. Let me do all the work."

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_**Read/Review!**_


	2. more swordplay and a temporary freedom

Disclaimer: I didn't invent these characters. I wish I did, though.  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Hermione sat on top of Draco, her crotch rubbing against his, creating all kinds of sensations that Draco had never really experienced, he found that he liked it. And then she was kissing him. He leaned into the kiss with a passion that he did not know he possessed, and to his surprise she opened her mouth under. Her hands trailed from his silken hair to his sculpted shoulders, and then slid to lock around his neck. He broke the kiss and brought his head to the side of the woman's head.  
  
"Who are you?" His voice was rough in her ear.  
  
Hermione brought her head away, and stared into his eyes, "I'm whoever you want me to be, Draco."  
  
He looked at her in surprise. How did she know his name? She smiled. Then the woman set her mouth to his cheek, the smooth line of his jaw, and the sensitive skin of his throat. As her feather-light touches traced circles over his skin, he gave up wondering or thinking for that matter, and fell completely and utterly into the moment.  
  
Draco lifted his hands, and traced the edges of her corset, and started to undo the laces. Hermione shivered with surprise - who knew that Draco could be like this? Hermione was just a little shaken. She usually at least make some attempt to fight the curse, but this time, she really didn't put out any effort at all. It couldn't be that she LIKED this could it? Hermione dismissed the thought. *** Draco and Hermione lay on the cold stone floor naked, twisting together in a frenzied passion. At least, one person was naked. To Draco's dismay, the mystery woman still had her silver mask on, and no matter how much he begged and asked she would not remove it.  
  
Suddenly, the woman broke away, and started to shake uncontrollably. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and a sheen of sweat started forming on her brow.  
  
"Oh my god." Draco whispered. "Um, are you okay?" That was apparent. Duh Draco, she was obviously NOT okay, he thought.  
  
Then she looked up wildly, and clutched at him, gripping him tightly. "Draco, you have to help me." She said in a raspy voice.  
  
"Um, excuse me?" he said, bewildered.  
  
"I don't have much time. I am temporarily freed from the imperious curse placed on me by the Dark Lord. After the war, I was taken prisoner. Now I am forced to prostitution, and I fear that I might not be able to last much longer."  
  
"Whoa," said Draco, caught completely off guard. "TMI."  
  
"Excuse me?" said Hermione.  
  
"Too much information, girl."  
  
"This is SERIOUS Draco." She said, impatiently.  
  
"I know, I'm sorry." Said Draco, bringing his hand up to caress her cheek. "Now tell me, what can I do to help?"  
  
*** That was FUN, OMG, I never thought I would get that kind of response from u guys, thank u so much. U have seriously brightened my boring holidays. So, as I said before, review and you'll get more!  
  
Next Chapter- Draco finds out what he has to do, and he doesn't hate it! 


	3. Instructions

Hey guys! I am so so sorry that it took so long for this chapter to come out. I wish I could say that I spent all this time writing this, but being the lazy bum I am, I didn't. I am such a hypocrite it isn't even funny. Actually, I was planning not to write any more. I suddenly got this urge to write a story like this, but I didn't take the "plot" seriously, but thanks to all your amazing support, I decided to write this ch. So without further ado, Chapter 3 of Voldie's house of Prostitutes.  
  
Chapter Three  
  
"Now tell me, what can I do to help?" Draco asked.  
  
"I can't live like this anymore Draco." Said Hermione, sobbing. She was kneeling on the cold stone floor near Draco and he placed his arms around her, letting her cry into his chest. He patted her head awkwardly, he wasn't used to comforting crying girls, let alone naked prostitutes.  
  
"It's alright, er. I don't know your name."  
  
Hermione looked up with a tear-stained face, "you don't need to. It's better this way." She smiled sadly.  
  
'Where have I seen this smile before?' Thought draco. 'She looks so familiar.but I just can't place it.'  
  
"Draco?" The woman whispered. She was looking at him, the dark holes in the mask gleaming questioningly.  
  
Draco snapped out of his reverie. "Yes?"  
  
"I need you to do a favor for me." She said, sitting up and straddling his hips so that his erection was painfully close to her opening. Hermione may not be under the imperious curse, but she knew what guys wanted.  
  
"Anything," Draco groaned, surprising himself. Since when was he so impressionable and easily persuaded by some stranger? His hips involuntarily thrusted upward.  
  
Hermione smiled, her crimson lips curving upward. "I need you to speak to your father, tell him that this was the best time you have ever had. Lie. Demand that you have me service you, and you alone."  
  
Draco raised his eyebrows, but his dark, lust crazed eyes were complying. 'Is this woman crazy? What she is asking is no favor to her, and I would most definitely NOT have to lie. But never the less, I can't let on that I want to do this.' "What will I get in return?" Draco asked.  
  
Hermione was surprised. She hadn't thought of that. She looked down at her hands and her voice was much less controlled, "Um, well, I don't have any money, the Dark Lord doesn't allow it. I suppose I can just do my job for you, like I'm supposed to. I mean, I think I'm pretty good, I haven't gotten any complaints." Her eyes once again looked up at him, pleading.  
  
Draco chuckled, "That will do fine. We'll find a way to end your imprisonment. I promise."  
  
Hermione smiled, "Thank you, you have no idea what this means-" she paused. Her eyes rolled back into her skull, and she fell off his hips, writhing on the floor.  
  
'What now' thought Draco. 'She must be being placed under the spell again.'  
  
As abruptly as before, she sat up, and spoke. "Draco, we haven't finished what we started." She pushed him onto the floor, and lay on top of him, but Draco resisted. He stood up, and pulled her to her feet.  
  
Grabbing her clothing and tossing it to her, he said, "No, I will not make love to you like this. I will not force you. Not now, not ever."  
  
She looked at him in confusion, and re-approached him. "But Draco, don't you want." her gaze traveled down to his still prominent erection. She stepped forward and embraced him, but he once again pushed her away violently.  
  
He gripped her arms and she grimaced, "I will ask for you, and you will come to me soon in my chambers, without the spell. I will see if you still want me then. Leave now." He let go of her arms, stepped away, and faced away from her.  
  
Hermione nodded silently, and retreated from the fencing room. She didn't know why, but she was anticipating being summoned to his chambers. She dismissed the idea. It was probably the curse still in affect. It had to be.  
  
WHEW! WOW, that took awhile. So u guys, u know the drill, send me a review and u will get more, I promise. And hopefully I can get it out in the next couple of weeks. LUV Y'ALL! 


	4. A Shower Can Be Dirrty

FINALLY chapter 4 is up! Enjoy! Disclaimer: obviously the characters don't belong to me.  
  
Voldemort's House of Prostitutes: Chapter 4  
  
Harry was cold. He was walking down a long corridor, everything was black. Then suddenly a light penetrated through the darkness-it was a door. Harry started walking faster, but it seemed that the faster he went the farther the door was from him. He broke into a run. He HAD to get through that door, he didn't know why, it was an unexplainable urge. The door moved farther back at an alarmingly increasing rate. He ran faster, and he began to hear sounds, no, voices-two of them, speaking to each other. He broke into a sprint, the door was finally getting closer, and the voices-louder.  
  
"Hermione..." a strained masculine voice sounded.  
  
Harry gasped. Hermione? He was almost at the door, it was at his fingertips, and then it started falling away, NO. HE had to get there, had to know why Hermione was in this place...and then the door stood still, and Harry fell through. There were two bodies on the floor.two NAKED bodies. One was Hermione, looking.Harry was surprised, she was well.beautiful, and there was a man on top of her, a man with silver blonde hair, and an aristocratic face that was now screwed up in ecstasy..it wasn't, it couldn't be, yes it was! It was Malfoy! What was he DOING to Hermione? Anger surged through him, why was Malfoy with her of all people? But all too quickly the image before him started to slip away.  
  
Harry shot up in his bed, gasping for air. He had to talk to Ron. What if this was some sort of premonition? He got out of the bed, and moved to the fireplace. He reached up to the mantle piece and pinched some green powder out of a glass jar, and threw it into the flames.  
  
"Ron, I need to talk to you, its urgent," said Harry into the emerald green flames.  
  
A very groggy and disheveled looking Ron appeared in the fireplace. "S'what is it Harry?" he asked sleepily.  
  
" I had a dream Ron, more of a nightmare really. I was walking down this hallway, and I went into this room, and Hermione was there! And I think Draco was raping her, and-"  
  
Meanwhile while Harry was talking, Ron was staring at him with an unimpressed look on his face. He interrupted, "Slow down Harry, I honestly hope your joking."  
  
Harry stopped, "Joking? Why would I joke about something like this?"  
  
"Well, I mean, aren't you a little OLD to be panicking about this sort of thing? I mean, Harry your EIGHTEEN and it's 3 in the morning. You woke me up because you had a nightmare? I REALLY want to um hear about this, as exciting as it sounds and everything, but I'm bloody tired, and you should be too. As far as I'm concerned, Hermione is not coming back any time soon.there isn't even any proof she's still alive! Harry, she wouldn't be the only one to die that night. And its been a year already.I honestly think you should just get on with your life and GO TO BED." And with that, Ron's head disappeared from the fireplace with an audible pop.  
  
Harry sat back in disbelief. Ron had always backed him up about this stuff before, and besides he was his best friend! He was SUPPOSED to be there to listen to his complaints at ANY TIME OF THE BLOODY NIGHT. Right?  
  
Anyways, about that dream... What could it have meant? Harry had never truly believed Hermione was dead, I mean, how could she be?  
  
Harry sighed and moved back into his bed. He tried to dismiss the dream, that's all it was after all, and tried to go back to sleep. However, he could not sleep the rest of the night, and lay awake, thinking about what his dream possibly could have meant.  
  
**@** Lucius approached Voldemort's throne and bowed lavishly.  
  
"My lord, I have a favor to ask of you." Lucius said.  
  
"Yes Lucius?" Voldemort said lazily twirling his wand between his fingers.  
  
"My son, Draco, has requested to have the mudblood who serviced him last night to become his permanently."  
  
Voldemort wheezed in a dry chuckle, "Ah, the humor of youth. Yes, I have been thinking that the brothels could use new blood in them."  
  
"I was just about to address that. I know of a Weasley girl, Ginny I think. She has become quite the little vixen...or so I've heard."  
  
"Excellent. You've done your work well Lucius. I am anxious to meet her."  
  
"Of course, I'll fetch her straight away." Said Lucius grinning. He had never let Voldemort down, and he wasn't planning to start now.  
  
**@**  
  
Where was she? Draco paced the length of his room for what seemed to be the hundredth time. He had sent word for that girl to come more than an HOUR ago. Obviously she had not gotten it.wait, what if she had just not wanted to come? Draco quickly dismissed the thought. He wanted to talk to her again, to touch her. Ever since he had last seen her he couldn't get her off his mind.  
  
Minutes past. Draco sighed, running his fingers through his silver hair, she wasn't going to come. Bewildered, he leaned against his doorway, at a loss for what to do. Sleep was always an option, but a shower always calmed his nerves.  
  
He determinedly marched back into his room, and entered his lavish bathroom. It consisted of only the finest flawless swarovski crystal, making it one of the very few rooms in the Malfoy household that did not remotely resemble a dungeon. He tugged on the handle, and a waterfall of steaming water cascaded down. He quickly stripped his clothes, and stepped under the flow of warm water. It had an immediate effect, soothing his taut muscles and troubled mind. He closed his eyes in ecstasy and thought of the woman, her touch, the way she smelled of cinnamon, and her amazing body.He was getting hard just thinking about it.He could feel her body pressed up against his, her hard nipples rubbing against his back, her soft mouth kissing his shoulders, her hands embracing him from behind and trailing along his stomach until she reached.oh god. He leaned against the fogged crystal for support.  
  
"So, did you miss me?" inquired a breathy feminine voice, her hot lips grazing his skin.  
  
Draco opened his eyes in shock, and whipped his head around to see to his disbelief the woman of his dreams, or rather, of his nightmares.  
  
**@**  
  
Well, kind of a cliffie, not really. Sorry that there's not much lemon here.there is more lemon in the next one.I just wanted to get some of the actual plot in here. So, Please review and tell me what you think! Also ideas about what you want to happen in the next couple chapters would be very appreciated at this point. I know I have been VERY irresponsible about posting things regularly, its been like 6 months hasn't it? So sorry about that, its actually kind of embarrassing..lol. C ya soon! 


	5. Ginny's Milkshake

Chapter 5: Ginny's Milkshake  
  
Lucius stared into the large gothic style mirror and smiled. He loved his job. He lifted the green vial to his mouth, and grimaced at the familiar but bitter taste. He glanced back at his reflection again, which was far different than it was a few seconds ago. He now resembled a 19 year old version of himself- his usual silver streaked long hair was now short cropped and sandy blonde, and years of maliciousness was erased from his bright sparkling eyes.  
  
He had to admit he was gorgeous-even to his standards.  
  
And he should be, especially tonight. He had a special date to attend to.  
  
*@*  
  
The vibrant red headed young woman walked down a street in Knockturn Alley, causing people to turn and stare in her direction. Her gloomy surroundings made a stark contrast with her bright emerald robes and fiery hair.  
  
She in turn was very uneasy, "Ginny, what did you get yourself into," she muttered under her breath. As usual, her best friend Lavender Brown was trying desperately to set her up with some bachelor or another. Ginny didn't really understand it. She thought, well sure, she hasn't had a boyfriend since 4th year Hogwarts, but just because it had been 3 years since she'd gotten any it didn't MEAN anything.right?  
  
Where was this blasted place anyways? Not being a regular to this cursed part of the wizarding world, she wasn't EXACTLY familiar with this environment. Especially at night. With creepy people following her. And leering at her.  
  
"Calm down Ginny. It's fine. Damnit where's Ron when you need him. I'm going to have a serious talk with Lavender when- IF I get back."  
  
Then finally she saw the inconspicuous dirty sign THE HOGS HEAD it read. And despite it's less than inviting appearance, she bolted in, not wanting to be in the streets any longer.  
  
*@*  
  
Lucius herd the familiar chime of someone entering hogs head. He looked up to see his next prey. She wasn't as bad as his son had described her as. Instead of resembling a "drowned sewer rat" before him stood a curvy woman with tousled hair, and if he did say so himself, a very nice ass. Although she looked quite frightened and innocent, which Lucius thought would make an interesting lay. He liked his women to be begging for mercy.  
  
And then she was standing in front of him, looking down at the picture he sent and comparing the two.  
  
He smiled disarmingly and stood, taking her hand in his and lightly kissing it, and then leaned in and whispered huskily in her ear.  
  
"Why Miss Weasley, I've seen your many pictures in the Prophet before, but they hardly do you justice. I must say you are one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever beheld."  
  
Ginny felt chills traveling up her spine, and blushed deeply.  
  
"You're not bad looking yourself," she replied, searching for a name , "Mr.."  
  
"Luther. Demian Luther."  
  
*@*  
  
Steaming water fell around Draco and the girl. He was in shock.  
  
"You came," He breathed heavily facing her.  
  
She brought her mouth to his, moving them against his, "Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world." She kissed him hotly.  
  
Draco was in heaven. "I want you," he growled.  
  
She grinned at him her mask glinting mysteriously, and slid down his body.  
  
"I forgot to give you your birthday present," she whispered seductively looking up at him through her lashes.  
  
*@*  
  
Ginny had finally left to "powder her nose" and Lucius was left alone at the table. Everything was going as planned, and now was his chance.  
  
He discretely took a small red vial out of his robes, uncorked it, and slipped it in her drink.  
  
She walked back towards him, relaxed now, her hips swaying. She sat down and smiled at him.  
  
"I missed you, what took you so long?" He asked, nearly barfing at his own sickly sweetness.  
  
"Oh, you know, the usual lines." She said offhandedly, taking a sip of her drink.  
  
She frowned down at her glass. It wasn't this bitter when she left. Then the room started swaying.  
  
Lucius was watching her intently. Ginny's eyes became dull and dazed looking. He stood up.  
  
She looked around confusedly, what was going on?  
  
"Where are you going?" she asked, her words slurred.  
  
"What do you say to a tour of my bedroom," Lucius said smiling, pulling back her chair for her.  
  
"It deprends, what we're gonna do thur." She said, grinning stupidly and giggling.  
  
"Whatever you want," he replied mischievously.  
  
She stood up, and fell into him, her hands gripping his chest.  
  
"You're strong." She said, attempting to flirt. She hugged him as he tried to walk, slightly dragging him down.  
  
She was causing quite a scene. Everyone in the pub was staring at her. Especially when she attempted to climb up onto the bar and broke out into a verse of the muggle song Milkshake.  
  
"Mry Mllkshaak brngs all the bois to the yaard and thur life is betta." and then she fell off crashing into a bunch of dirty glasses.  
  
The only thing going through Lucius' mind as he dragged her out of the rubble was 'she is SO not worth this embarrassment.'  
  
*@*  
  
So yes, the long awaited chapter has finally arrived. And I know it might not exactly be as spectacular as expected.but believe me the plot is coming along. And I promise many good scenes in the next chapter. Believe me, you'll be blown away.  
  
But in the meantime, send me some reviews, especially if you have any suggestions! I really appreciate them!  
  
-tropix 


	6. Breakable

* * *

A/N: Sorry this took me so long. Hope you like!

**V.H.P- Chapter 6- Breakable**

Lucius swung the door open to the dark, dank room, and dragged the red headed woman in, slamming her hard against the peeling wall and pressing her body close to his. She smiled coyly, and he kissed her hard on the lips. Ginny broke the kiss and giggled madly, "I'm a gooood girl, I don't go pass first base on the first date you naughty naughty boy." Her cheeks were flushed and her clothes and hair were in disarray.

Lucius smiled maliciously. The drug was obviously having the exact desired affect on this girl's mind. Now time to have some fun.

He started to rip off Ginny's robe as he pushed her on the murphy bed. He towered over her and started to unbuckle his belt. Ginny looked up at him with dilated pupils, her head propped up on her elbows and said, "I'm not really sure we should be doing this...maybe we should go home and play croquet with mummy!!"

Lucius's face turned cold, "Shut up bitch." He pulled up the belt, wielding it like a whip and strapped her across the face, the belt buckle leaving an angry red welt on her cheek.

Ginny's eyes went wide and she held her hand up to her cheek and felt the blood trickling down her chin. She asked in an innocent voice, "Ouch that hurt, what was that for?"

Lucius smirked, "Don't tell me you didn't enjoy that you little whore. He crawled up next to her on the small bed, slamming his knee sharply on her flat stomach as he pinned her down, removing the last remnants of material from her body with his teeth, grazing her skin. Ginny moaned, arching her back into the mattress.

Lucius gazed appreciatively at her breasts, massaging them roughly in his large hands, grinning as Ginny winced in discomfort. Ginny could feel a hardness on her thigh, she looked down to see Lucius's burgeoning erection. "Oh my, is the little bunny out to play?" Lucius scowled, and shoved his finger up her roughly to test her readiness, encountering her still obvious virginity. Even after his "teasing" she was still practically dry. Screw this.

He dug his nails into her hips as he positioned himself at her opening. Ginny's mouth fell open in surprise. This just felt...all wrong. This wasn't how her first time was supposed to be.

She reached up to his chest and tried to push him off her, but he wouldn't move. She was getting desperate, and in a last fighting attempt she raked her nails across Lucius' face.

Lucius snarled, "You little bitch, you want to do this the hard way? Perfectly fine with me." Lucius was out of breath, and reached with lightning quick reflexes to the bedside table and to his wand. He pointed it at Ginny's chest, "CRUCIO!"

Ginny experienced a sudden inexplicable, unbearable agony. Every inch of her flesh was being stabbed with burning knives. All at once her eyes rolled back into her head and she began convulsing.

Lucius grinned as he held up her wrists with one hand and finally penetrated her innocent body. Gods she was tight. He hadn't had such a good lay in many years.

Through all the pain Ginny felt something break. She turned her face away as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

* * *

The sound of running water was loud in the shower stall, and Draco could hear his heart thudding loudly in his ears. The woman he had been waiting for, it seemed, all of his life was kneeling below him, readying to give him the most pleasure he had ever had in his life. Ever so gently she kissed the side of his by now wild arousal, and bending her head she parted her lips and let him into the hot caverns of her mouth.

Draco was at a loss for words. His hands fumbled to get some sort of grip; every time her mouth slid over him jolts of pleasure sizzled up and down his spine. But somehow, this was wrong. She was amazing, but she was better than this. What she was doing for him was...almost mechanical. Draco wanted something more intimate.

* * *

Ginny's head throbbed. She opened her eyes blearily; she had just had the most horrible dream. God, she felt sore all over. She must have drank too much at the pub last night...how embarrassing.

Everything suddenly snapped into focus. Ginny was lying on a pile of rags on the floor, and there was a gaggle of skimpily dressed woman clustered around her. One of which was dabbing her forehead with a damp cloth.

Ginny swatted the woman's hand away, and backed up towards the headboard, "Who are you, some kind of prostitute? Where the hell am I?"

The girls started whispering to each other, until the doors burst open, and they all fell silent and backed away from Ginny's bed. Ginny could hear the steady click of boots on the cold concrete floor as a large, broad shouldered half giant strode towards her.

He stopped at the foot of her bed, and looked her critically up and down. "So this is Granger's replacement."

* * *

Harry bolted upright from his bed, with sweat drenching his nightclothes. He'd had a horrible dream, Ginny, the Weasley girl he hadn't seen since school, was somewhere where she shouldn't be.

He was jolted out of thought as there was a pounding at the door. He glanced at his reflection near the door, he was looking horrible. Dark circles and bags under his eyes, the fact was he hadn't been getting much sleep at all these past few days. Only nightmares.

The door swung open to reveal a very pale Ron. "Ginny. She's gone, she never came back last night. Harry we have GOT—"

Harry interrupted and breathed in deeply, "I know Ron. I know what we have to do."

* * *

Draco tried to bring her face up to his for an intimate kiss- he wanted her to feel for him the way he felt for her, but she refused.

"No," she murmered, "I'm not ready for that."

Draco pulled her up, his desire dampened, "What, so you're willing to give me head but you can't kiss me?"

She looked up into his eyes that were full of anger. So different from two seconds ago. "It's a rule. It would be too personal. We can't have me...falling in love."

Draco's face contorted with fury. He turned off the shower, and stepped out of the shower, not even bothering to grab a towel. He turned around as he was about to go out the door, "I want you out of here."

* * *

A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews. I have the juiciest chapter coming up, so please leave me a comment! The more reviews the faster I'll write!

Xoxo-tropix


	7. New Blood

a/n: Hope you enjoy the chapter. I particularly enjoyed writing this one. Special thanks to Princess-Anastaja and SycoCallie, my faithful reviewers!

**VHP: Chapter 7**

Hermione's life was over. Escape had been so close, she could still taste it, and now everything was back to the beginning. And there was nothing she could do about it. She was stuck in hell, and there was no way out.

What had she done? She had a good thing going. I mean sure, it was still sex, but there were no beatings, no hateful words. He had been almost...tender. Who would have thought?

She sighed as she approached the brothel, she never felt more hopeless as she did at this moment. 'It's time to start the beginning of the rest of my life,' she thought morbidly, walking in the side door, reserved for people like her.

The customary chatter in the boudoir ceased as she appeared. "MIONE!!!" they all screamed, rushing her, enveloping her in hugs. "We MISSED you!"

Lavender, her old friend was the first one to reach her, and embraced her, looking into her eyes with concern, "Mione whats wrong?"

Hermione frowned, what did she mean? She reached up to her face, and felt the wetness there. She hadn't notice the tears streaming down her face.

"I'm back." She whispered faintly.

* * *

An unusual black haired boy and his best friend ambled through the dark, narrow alleys. Harry was obviously the leader, as Ron was looking EXTREMELY uncomfortable, his hands gripping his sleeves, and chewing nervously on his lip.

"Er, Harry? Where exactly did you say we were going again?" Ron asked uncertainly, eyeing a strange old woman in the corner, making suggestive hand movements.

Harry looked at Ron barely concealing his amusement, "You'll see," he said mischievously.

They came to a corner, and turned right. They were immediately assaulted by bright neon lights screaming things like "GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS!" and "YOUNG AND WILLING." Ron almost lost his lunch.

"You have GOT to be kidding," he choked out. "I thought we were going to find my sister!"

"We are," Harry said cryptically. He leaned against the door, pushing it open. He paused "Ron, you might see some things you might not be used to-but please _please_ act normal. You're sister's life depends on it."

Ron still didn't understand, but he nodded anyway. Harry better know what he was talking about, because Ron sure as hell didn't.

* * *

"Granger?!!" HERMIONE Granger?!" Ginny stared at the man in disbelief.

The huge man grunted, pulling her arm and bringing her to her feet. "There isn't time for this, you have a job to do."

She looked up at him, still confused, "What kind of job?"

He led her by her arm as they started out of the room. He gestured at the skimpily clad girls walking by, "What do you think?"

Ginny's eyes went wide, as she spun away. "No, absolutely NOT. There is no way I'm doing this, I have rights! You can't _make_ me!"

He continued to walk down a corridor, his iron grip on her arm, not even sparing her a glance. "I'm afraid you have no choice."

They came to a door, and he unceremoniously threw her into the room where another girl was waiting. He said gruffly, "Tell me when she's ready, Lavender," and shut the door, leaving them in darkness.

Ginny looked up from the floor, and barely made out a feminine figure.

"Hold on one second hun," the woman said, as she lit a candle, illuminating the room.

The woman was beautiful, if a little bit under dressed. She had light brown, wavy hair that barely skimmed the top of her light purple corset. Her big hazel eyes stared in quiet astonishment. She remembered her, this was Ron Weasley's little sister.

She smiled broadly, helping Ginny to her feet. "Wow you've grown."

Ginny looked aghast at being recognized by a prostitute. "Pardon me?"

"Don't you remember me? I'm Lavender Brown, I was in your brother's class. But no matter, we have work to do-we'll catch up later." She said, suddenly growing serious, and walking over to the armoire in the corner.

Ginny watched in grim fascination as Lavender sorted through garters, stockings, corsets and "accessories" that she didn't even know were legal.

"Let's see," Lavender muttered to herself, "What would be your color?"

* * *

Harry and Ron were seated on a pair of red satin pillow, in front of a sign with blinking lights that read: "WELCOME TO VOLDIE'S HOUSE OF PROSTITUTES! All of these beautiful women are here for your pleasure, but please refrain from excessively beating or killing the whores. We hope you have a pleasurable stay, and come back soon."

Harry smiled to himself, as Ron paled, his freckles standing out on his face, and gulped audibly. Harry patted Ron on his back reassuringly, "Calm down Ron old boy. It's not like you've never done this."

Ron looked away, embarrassed. "Well, now that you mention it..."

Harry looked at him in disbelief, "You're joking right?"

Ron blushed and shook his head.

Harry raised his eyebrow, "How old are you again Ron?"

"Almost 20," Ron whispered, thoroughly humiliated.

Harry stared straight ahead, murmuring, "Shit..." under his breath.

Just then a large man walked up to them holding a clipboard. "Welcome to Voldie's House of Prostitutes. What will it be boys, Schoolgirl, Rape, Kinky, or," he snorted, "romance."

Harry immediately answered, "Schoolgirl."

The man checked of a box on the piece of paper, and looked at the redhead expectantly.

Ron looked scared and stuttered, "Um-er...yeah...well....romance?" he said weakly.

The man raised his eyebrows mockingly, and gestured to the two scantily clad girls in the corner. "Take this one to room 7," he told the blond, who took Harry away. Ron watched him leave nervously. "And let's give this man room 4."

* * *

Lavender tilted her head as she brought out a few garments, "Well the boss said your job was romantic," she chuckled, "we haven't had one of those in ages. You're a lucky one." She picked up a ridiculously tiny teddy and g-string made of pink satin and black lace. "This should do. Why don't you try it on?"

Ginny took the hanger from the woman. Well at least it wasn't a corset. She went behind the screen and pulled her top over her head. Looking down to unclasp her bra, she noticed two large bruises from the night before. She sighed. There was no hope for tonight. What kind of men came to a place like this anyway? She quickly ran her fingers through her hair, and stepped in front of the mirror. She hated to admit it, but she didn't look half bad. The teddy seemed to hug her in all the right places, just skimming her contours, and made her have an alluring sense of innocence.

She saw Lavender's reflection smiling at her, as she clasped her hands together. "I knew this was your color, it suits you perfectly. Now just for hair and makeup." She pursed her lips in concentration as she turned Ginny around, taking a black mask out from a drawer. "This should do," she said, fastening it to the back of her head. Ginny turned back to the mirror and was startled by the immediate change. Her usual shock of red hair was tamed to a strawberry blonde, and it cascaded down her back in soft curls. Her eyes were turned from its usual green to a brilliant hue of blue, and her lips were flushed pink.

"Wow," Ginny breathed.

Lavender rearranged a few curls, "No man will be able to resist you now."

There was a knock at the door, and a man's voice called from the outside. Lavender strode towards it and opened the door, "She's ready."

"Took you long enough" remarked the man gruffly as he stepped into the room. He looked Ginny once over, "Not bad...Might be our best seller yet."

Ginny blushed and looked down at her hands. Lavender gave her a brief hug, "Good luck. And a word of advice? Don't try to fight it."

Ginny looked up, a questioning look in her eyes, but the man once again dragged her out of the room and roughly pushed her against the wall. He took his wand out of his robes and pointing it at her chest and muttered a quick imperio.

Ginny's eyes grew wide as she immediately recognized his words. A floating sensation took over her body. She no longer had a will of her own.

"You are to go into room 4. There is a man waiting for you. You will pleasure him and do whatever he asks. You are under no circumstances to take of your mask. Do you understand me?"

Ginny found herself nodding her head compliantly.

* * *

Draco eyed the crowd with contempt. He was at the annual party his father held for his friends, aka his fellow deatheaters. Draco was definitely not in a good mood. Just then a pug nosed blonde haired girl sauntered over, and smiled garishly.

"What do you want Pansy?" Draco said in a bored tone.

She stepped closer and giggled trailing her hands down his chest, and squeezing the place between his legs. "Whatever you want Draco baby."

He studied her face. She was truly one of the most hideous creatures he had ever seen in his entire life. But her body was half decent. That's probably why she had had the opportunity to fuck half of the graduating class.

She grabbed his hand and started to lead him away from the group, probably into some broom closet or another. And for some reason, Draco let her.

* * *

Hermione sat at the vanity in the small room, staring despondently at her reflection. She was back on the job, and was dressed in the Hogwarts school robes, except much, much smaller and much, much sexier. The shirt was tight and busting open at the top, revealing a red lace bra and an eyeful of cleavage, and the skirt barely concealed her panty-less ass.

She took the mask that she loathed so very much, and fastened it securely. She was stunning. She breathed in deeply, mentally preparing herself for the night.

...She missed him. The way his silver hair fell so perfectly into his gorgeous gray eyes, the way they smoldered for her, the way he treated her like an equal...

A hand gripped her shoulder, and with a sharp intake of breath she spun around. She was faced with the grotesque face of he-who-shall-not-be-named, whose face split horribly as he smiled at her. He cradled her face in his hands, staring at her perfect reflection in the mirror.

"I knew you couldn't stay away." He breathed in her ear.

* * *

Harry looked around the room in mild humor. The room was the most freakishly gaudy thing he had ever seen in his life. He was leaning back on a large red satin bed, and was staring up at the large Hogwarts Crest hanging on the ceiling. The room was complete with a teacher's desk in the corner. He didn't even want to think what people had done on that piece of furniture.

The door opened and Harry sat up quickly. A schoolgirl stood in front of him. Her sultry red lips drew into a smile, and she began to walk slowly towards him. Harry's mouth fell open as she straddled his already burgeoning erection and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Hello, Harry," She whispered hotly against his lips.

* * *

Ginny felt sick. Her hand trembled on the doorknob, she couldn't believe what she was about to do. Just last night her virginity was stolen from her, and now look. Things really can change in a moment. She took a deep breath to steady herself, and flung the door open...

And was met with a shock of red hair so much like her own. A pale face with two brilliant blue eyes looked up at her in shock and apprehension. It was none other than her brother.

Ginny wanted nothing else but to run out of that room, but a force tugged at her hips, forcing her forward. She felt her lips twitch up into a smile that was not her own, and she moved ever closer to the boy on the bed, who was looking up at her in awe. Could he not see it was her??

Her hands clasped his and brought them to her hips, and she pressed her lips to his. She wanted to scream out to him...but as he tentatively brought his hands up to cradle her face, pressing his body to hers, she couldn't help but fall deeper into the kiss.

* * *

And that's where I shall leave you. Please review, any comments will help. Happy Halloween! 


	8. Sibling Rivalry

Ch.8 VHP

Ron's hands shook as he pulled the satin over her head. He gasped as he regarded her body fully for the first time. His eyes roved upwards, from the swell of her hips to her flat stomach, and her sweet and full breasts. He frowned at the dark purple mark on her creamy skin and looked up questioningly to meet her eyes, which were studying him closely. He tentatively brought his lips down to her chest, and closing his eyes, brushed his lips against the ugly welt.

She let out a small gasp. He treated her so tenderly, so sweetly. It was such a stark contrast to her first experience the night before, it made her want to cry. For her lost innocence or joy she did not know.

He continued his hesitant kisses, growing more and more bold as he cupped her breast in his hand, sucking and teasing her nipple, which grew taut under his manipulation. Ginny moaned, clinging to the strength of his shoulders. Like someone who had been lost too long in a frigid winter landscape, she felt as though her numbed flesh tingled painfully back to life.

Her fingers roved over his back with a mounting urgency, and Ron pulled her to him. Skin pressed against skin, the soft sensitive globes of her breasts flattening against the hard wall of his chest. His mouth captured hers in a kiss that was fiery and tender, his tongue coaxing and stroking hers in a heated embrace. Ginny clung to him, kissing him back just as eagerly, warmth spreading through her veins.

She could feel the brush of his evident erection against her thigh, a sensation that both stirred her own desire and alarmed her at the same time.

Ginny couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed his hard shaft, and positioned himself at her opening. Ron met her gaze, surprise evident in his eyes. "Please," she whispered, a hint of desperation in her voice. He gave a quick nod in assent.

He eased himself down into her, her body stretching like a sheath around him. Ginny drew in breath sharply at the feel of him inside of her.

He spanned his hands about her hips, helping her rock against him, but letting her set the pace. She reveled in the sight of the man straining above her, his lean muscles glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, his fine features suffused with passion. She felt pulled into the rich warm depths of his eyes, their ragged breathing coming as one.

The tension coiled inside of her until she could no longer bear it. She emitted a low cry as her body shuddered with a burst of pleasure, stronger, hotter and sweeter than she had ever imagined. Ron's own control finally broke, and with a low groan, his hands gripping her hips, he buried himself inside of her.

Their joining left Ginny weak and trembling. She was grateful for Ron's arms encircling her, pulling her safe and close against his hard body. Her breasts rose and fell as her racing heart stilled to a more steady rhythm. She closed her eyes briefly and issued a slow, deep sigh.

Ron broke the comfortable silence, "I'm sorry…it probably wasn't very good for you…that was my first time." He smiled apologetically, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks making his freckles stand out.

Ginny felt a swell of affection rise in her chest, bringing her hand up to trace the freckles she knew so well. She brought her lips to his, smiling and whispered, "No, it was perfect."

Ron drew her into his arms and placed his chin on top of her head. He sighed deeply, a grin spreading across his face. He had never felt happier or more complete in his entire life.

* * *

Ron woke up much later, with faint sunlight dancing across the white bed. He was at first startled to find a beautiful naked girl in his arms, but the events of the night before flooded into his mind and his lips curled up in a lazy and contented smile. 

He propped his head up on his hand, shifting away from her so he could look more closely at the girl, no, woman in his arms. She looked so innocent in sleep, her mouth slightly opened, her breath coming softly and stirring her coppery blonde hair which fanned out on the pillow. She moaned slightly, shifting her body closer, seeking out the warmth of his body.

God she was beautiful…He lightly traced the contours of her face, his long fingers brushing her lips, which were still red and slightly swollen from their coupling the night before. He was almost afraid to touch her, she seemed so…fragile. Almost like she would break if he pressed too hard.

As he studied her features more closely, something struck him as strangely familiar. Her delicate jaw line, cupid's blow lips and high cheekbones all resonated somewhere deep within him. The dark black mask obscured half of her face, and he reached up searching for its fastenings. The ribbons came undone and he gently began to remove the mask from her upturned face when her eyes suddenly snapped open.

She moved quickly, snatching the mask away from his hands, refastening it at the back of her head.

Her startling blue eyes flashed angrily at him, "What do you think you're doing?"

Ron stuttered, caught off guard, "I-I…I just wanted to see your face…"

She glared as she moved away from him to the edge of the bed. Flinging the covers off, she stood up with her back to him, searching for her cast off clothing.

"You know the rules Ron," her voice was icy.

He started, sitting up on the bed, though too self conscious to walk around as brazenly as the girl. "Wait, how do you know my name?"

Ginny cursed under her breath. How could she be so careless? "I've stayed too long." She pulled the negligee back over her head and finally turned to face him.

He sprung out of bed, all modesty forgotten. "I'm sorry. Please don't go. It's just that I feel like I know you…our connection last night…don't tell me you didn't feel it too.." he trailed off helplessly and attempted to draw her into his arms once more.

She broke away and turned her face away from his, smiling cruelly. "Well I obviously did my job well then…"

Ron looked stricken and unconsciously took a step away from where she stood.

She looked up, a look of triumph in her eyes. "Well, Ron, aren't you forgetting something? I'm a prostitute, a _whore_. You payed good money for me to bed you last night. And I can assure you, whatever you might have imagined between us last night means _nothing_ to me."

And before he could say anything more she whirled around and marched out of the door, her head held high and her heart breaking.

* * *

A/N: WOW. Tee hee. So this took a long long looong time to come out. And I'm so sorry about that. I don't know what you guys will think about this new kind of plot twist…let's just say Ginny couldn't help herself. Until next time! 


	9. Prison Break

_**Authors Note: Oh my goodness, how long has it been? I'll be honest, I hadn't planned on continuing this fic. But what can I say? I got inspired. Here is the longest chapter I've ever written, with lots of Draco/Hermione, as promised. I hope this can make up for how long I've been absent!**_

_**I'll be finishing this fic (finally!) so please don't forget to read and review! Enjoy!**_

**VHP Chapter 9**

**By, Netta Nicole**

In a dark, cramped broom closet, an 18 year old Draco was having trouble getting a hard on.

Draco had allowed himself to be pushed back against the wall by the lank-haired and over eager Pansy Parkinson, and he was trying desperately to enjoy himself. _I'm young_, Draco growled to himself internally. _This is supposed to be fun. Besides, what's the difference between one whore and another?_

He ordered his unwilling lips to move against Pansy's desperate ones, and he tried not to recoil at the strong, almost cough syrup-like taste of her cherry lip gloss. He closed his eyes and instead tried to imagine that the thin lips he was presently caressing were instead a full and lush deep crimson, and that Pansy's greasy flat blonde hair was instead the thick mane of chestnut curls. He imagined that Pansy was his mystery woman, and at last he felt the stirrings of desire in his body. He sighed internally. _Finally_.

"Oh, Draco baby. I've been waiting so long," said Pansy in a nasal whine.

Draco grimaced—she was ruining the fantasy. "Shut up, Pansy," he growled, as he roughly began shoving her dress off of her shoulders. Pansy giggled in response, but otherwise remained silent.

As Draco kissed down Pansy's collarbone and brought a hand up to lightly touch the swell of her breast, he recalled the enticing smell of cinnamon—the smell of his unidentified lover.

His mind went around in circles as he cupped his hands under Pansy's hips, and roughly ripped off her soaked panties. She gasped as Draco lifted her higher so that he could enter her.

Even days after Draco refused the masked woman and had sent her away, the woman still haunted his thoughts. Who could she be? Where had he seen her before? He knew the brunette woman's face so well…knew the curve of her golden neck, the line of her strong jaw, the shape of her perfect rosebud mouth.

Pansy clutched pink, sparkly manicured fingers around Draco's shoulders, preparing herself for whatever pleasures Draco was about to elicit. Pansy smiled wickedly. Her dreams were coming true.

She would sleep with Draco and he would be hers forever! She began imagining their perfect white wedding that she had often fantasized about, and then their two perfect blonde aristocratic children that would soon follow. She was practically giddy with joy. All hers! And all so tangible. He loved her after all, she just knew it.

Draco took one last deep, bracing breath, readying himself to lose his virginity to a pug-nosed Slytherin slut. _No_, he corrected himself. _I am with my lover, the only woman for me. I am with my…_

Hermione_?_

And then it clicked. He knew exactly where he'd seen his mystery woman before. He mentally replaced her corsets and fishnet stockings with sensible school robes, her Gryffindor crest proudly emblazoned on her chest.

He had seen her graceful neck before, but craning up in front of him, trying to better see the blackboard in Transfiguration. He had seen the straight line of her jaw, but clenched in concentration as she chewed on the end of her quill in potions class. He remembered her gorgeous lips, but in his memories they were pursed in a tight line of frustration as she glared at him from across the room after he had called her a Mudblood. Ah, yes, how could he have missed it!

Draco's body had frozen, his wilting erection inches away from Pansy. Pansy looked up at him, questioningly but was met by a distant and unseeing look in Draco's eyes. She shook him a little, laughing nervously. She saw the corners of his lips turn up slightly at the corners as he let out a breathy word.

"Hermione."

Pansy wheeled back in shock, forcing Draco to set her down. This seemed to finally snap him back to reality. He stared at her suddenly, his silver eyebrows raised, looking as if he had forgotten where he was. Her face was livid, her scowl was stormy and blotches of red started showing through her thick, pasty foundation.

"What did you just call me?" she barked at him.

Draco disentangled himself from the bony girl and immediately began drawing up his black slacks and re-buttoning his pressed white shirt. "I'm sorry, Pansy, I think we're done for tonight."

Pansy's mouth dropped open, making her look even more clueless. All of her well laid plans, her dreams, her WEDDING were just slipping through her fingers.

She tried to backtrack. She laid her hands on Draco's shoulders, trying to make her voice more seductive.

"Wait, Draco. Where's the fire, huh? We were just getting started." She sounded like she had laryngitis.

Draco brushed her off as if she were no more than a pesky, overexcited pet. "This was a mistake. I have to go." He moved towards the door.

His mind was on other things. He didn't have time for this. He knew exactly who the woman of his dreams was and exactly where she was at this very moment. A small part of his mind began to chastise him—didn't he remember who she was? The Gryffindor good girl? The Mudblood?

All of the original barriers that had always been between them had not disappeared with the war. If anything they had only intensified. Liking her, thinking of her, wanting her went against everything that he had ever been taught. Draco pushed these thoughts out of his head. There would be plenty of time to deal with these…problems later. But now was a time for action.

Draco became determined. He would find Hermione and get her out. He expected nothing in return. It's the least he could do for her after all of those years of torment in school, and after all that his father and Voldemort had done to her.

If, out from under the Imperious curse and away from that awful place, if she still wanted him then…He stopped his train of thought. He wouldn't allow himself to hope.

Draco left the broom closet in a hurry, completely distracted, and then paused briefly at the doorway, remembering the awful girl he almost bedded.

He glanced back at her long, thin face that was now crumpled in defeat. Her ill-fitting dress was ruined, with her skirt pushed up and the straps torn off of her shoulders. He felt badly for her. Draco reached into his pocket, pulling out a large wad of money. He threw it towards her, his striking grey eyes remote.

"Buy yourself a new dress."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It was late at night and Hermione stood in front of her shared vanity mirror wearing nothing but a deep rose-colored dressing gown. She ran the silver brush through her already shiny dark hair, allowing the repetitive movement to calm her.

Her job would never cease to amaze her. Back at Hogwarts she was certainly not a promiscuous girl. On the contrary, her only sexual experience before the war had been a clumsy encounter with Viktor Krum on his last night at Hogwarts.

She laughed softly at this particular recollection. His large, calloused hands had pawed at her blouse, and his clumsy touch had trembled with eagerness. They hadn't gone any farther than kissing that night, but that had still been a big deal to Hermione. At the time, she was just flattered that any boy would look her way. God knew that she was all but invisible to Harry and Ron. Oh how times had changed. She certainly hadn't been invisible to Harry earlier that night.

She raised a single arched eyebrow at her reflection and almost felt the urge to blush at her more recent memories. Her best friend was better endowed than she expected.

Hermione remembered how he had pushed her over the fake school desk, how he had held a fist full of her hair as he rode into her harder and harder…he had been wildly uninhibited during the act, but afterwards he was almost shy. A few minutes later he had avoided staring at her as she redressed, almost as if he wanted to give her her privacy.

"Listen…um," he had started out, his voice slightly uneven. "I'm sorry, I don't know you're name."

"Vanessa," she had responded immediately, checking to make sure that her mask was safely in place.

"Right, er, Vanessa. Well I actually came here looking for a friend of mind." He chuckled nervously to himself. "I almost thought you were her at first," he brought up a hand as if he wanted to wrap her chestnut strands around his fingers, but quickly dropped it to his side, thinking better of it. "But now of course I can see that I was wrong."

Hermione sucked in her breath. Of course he didn't recognize her. The enchantment attached to the mask altered her features just enough to render her unrecognizable, even to the boy who had supposedly known her the best.

"Anyways," Harry started talking again, this time meeting her gaze. "I know it's a long shot but I used to have a friend, Hermione. I had this…dream." He blushed a little, feeling foolish, but soldiered on anyways. "Well I suspected she might be here. Do you know anyone by that name?"

She wanted so much to scream out to him, to rip off her mask. But the curse held fast. Her voice was stuck in her burning throat and her hands that longed to reach up and reveal herself were balled into tight fists at her sides. She could feel the pain of her own crimson painted nails digging into her flesh. Her body shook slightly with effort.

Harry didn't read anything into her silence. He sighed and allowed his shoulders to slump. "Of course not. I'm sorry. I don't suppose a girl named Ginny is here either."

Hermione felt puzzled—she actually didn't know. Ginny, here?

"Nevermind. I'm sorry to hold you here. You were," Harry sucked in a ragged breath, "fantastic, Vanessa. Thank you."

This was her cue to exit. Vanessa nodded and her unwilling feet quickly took her out of the room where she had done it doggy-style with the Boy Who Lived.

Hermione sighed as she replaced her hairbrush on the vanity table and thought vaguely about sleeping. She was "lucky." Since she was the brothel's most popular girl she was afforded her own sparsely furnished room and even a few possessions such as her silver hairbrush. It had belonged to her mother and was the only object Hermione had to remember her by.

She didn't know what had happened to her family since the war, but she assumed the worse. Voldemort had worked tirelessly to exterminate all mudblood lineages, keeping only occasional particularly attractive females for his 'extra curricular activities.'

Hermione's melancholy thoughts turned to a subject she had promised herself that she would not dwell on. Draco. She grudgingly admitted to herself that she missed him.

Just then, there was a sharp rap on the door. "Come in," Hermione called. It was a charade of course. The guards could come in whenever they pleased. No one needed her permission in this place.

The door swung open and a beefy man with small black eyes filled the doorframe. "You have another visitor," he said gruffly.

"What style?" she asked. It was an automatic response.

"Kinky." The man licked his lips maliciously. Hermione winced at this—this was the least desirable response. Men who requested this were the ones interested in domination. They were the ones that hit the hardest.

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Draco stood in the middle of the small dark room. The floor was made of cool slate, the walls were painted in a shiny black color that looked almost like vinyl, and a collection of dangerous looking whips and clubs hung on the wall. Draco eyed them warily. Just because he was brave didn't mean that he was a glutton for pain.

He wondered what Hermione thought of all of these tools for torture. He imagined the men who had used these whips on her back, and the welts that their blows must have left on her golden skin. Draco grimaced and his hand tightened around the strap of the bag he was carrying. The idea of anyone causing her pain made him want to punch something.

Draco forced himself to take deep breaths and sit on the only piece of furniture in the room—a large black leather couch. He placed his small duffel back down at his feet. The bag was instrumental to his plan. After hastily leaving the party he had stopped by the manor to collect a few key items: money, spare clothing, and most importantly, his wand.

Ordinarily, guests at the brothel were not allowed to bring in anything but the clothes on their backs. But this is why Draco chose "kinky" for his meeting with Hermione. Draco had simply winked conspiratorially at the guard, informing him that he preferred to use his own "instruments" when with the girls. The guard had shrugged and waved him through. Draco blanched, disgusted.

The wrought iron door swung open and Draco paused mid-breathe in anticipation. It was her. And, by the gods, she was every bit as ravishing as he remembered.

Hermione was wearing…well she was wearing almost nothing. Draco's mind entered a fog as he registered this fact.

Her eyes were obscured with a black mask, as per usual, but her usual cascading hair was sleek and straight, hanging down her back. Her lips were left a natural dusky pink, and her nails were painted black, matching the mood of the room.

Her long neck was deliciously bare, and she wore a tiny sleeveless black bandeau top that barely covered her full breasts. Her toned stomach was left exposed, giving way to the swell of her hips and a pair of tight fitting black boyshorts that hugged her rear. It seemed to Draco that her stockingless-legs stretched on forever, and his eyes trailed down to note that she was wearing dangerously high looking and dangerously sexy black patent heels.

Draco felt guilty as he caught himself staring, but Hermione didn't even glance at who was in the room as she strode across the slate floor to select a small braided brown leather riding crop. She had a look of determined concentration on her face, as if she was prepared to endure the next few hours with a smile on her face. Draco watched her as she carefully composed her features into a smoldering look and turned to face him.

Hermione felt her heart jump in her chest as she realized the identity of the man who was standing in front of her. Her pink lips parted and the riding crop fell out of her hands and clattered to the floor.

"Draco," she breathed.

In an instant, Draco had crossed the room and crushed her mouth to his. Hermione had never been kissed this way. She could taste his desire, his desperation, and his need for her. His lips moved against hers with an all consuming hunger and his searching hands left trails of fire on her skin.

Hermione turned her head to the side, gasping in air as Draco began kissing her neck. Hermione moaned his name as he blew lightly on the sensitive spot below her ear.

She brought her bandeau top over her head and began unzipping Draco's pants. She clasped her arms around his broad shoulders and brought up a leg to wrap around his hips. She could feel his hard arousal pressing into her upper thigh, and she shivered.

She caught his mouth again and licked his lower lip hungrily, begging entrance. She ran her hands up his sides, pushing up the shirt and seeking out his hard chest. He moaned her name into her mouth. "Hermione."

She froze and her eyes snapped open, taking in Draco's disheveled hair and silver eyes dilated black with desire. "H-how-?" she stammered out.

Draco brought up a hand to smooth her brown locks. "Shhh. I'm getting you out of here. We're being monitored, so even if you don't want me, I must ask you to pretend you want me." Draco took a moment to take in a breath, searching Hermione's warm brown eyes. "At least for tonight."

Hermione's mind reeled. He knew who she was, and he still wanted to help her. She was overwhelmed by emotion, and could feel the tears pricking at her eyes. At this moment her heart felt so full. But…how could he think that she didn't want him, want this?

She tried to form words but couldn't think of the right thing to say that would fully express how lonely she had been when she was without him in this horrible place, how she lived to see him smile, how much she wanted him, how all of her thoughts were filled with images of him and only him.

If she couldn't tell him how much she felt for him, she would simply have to show him.

Draco watched the emotions flit across her face and the tears that shone in her eyes. As each drop fell down her cheeks he brought his lips to kiss them away tenderly.

Seeing her cry caused an unfamiliar twisting pang in Draco's chest. He never wanted to be the cause for her tears, and never wanted to force her to do anything that she didn't want to do. Draco considered abandoning this plan that would force her to bed him.

Just as Draco was about to pull away from her, Hermione brought up both of her hands to his chest and forcefully pushed Draco down onto the leather couch. She smiled as she climbed on top of him, placing her crotch directly over his erection.

Draco shuddered at the contact and looked up at her, his eyes wide. His hands lay uselessly at his sides, and he looked up at her beautiful face undecidedly, not sure of what Hermione wanted.

Looking into Draco's grey eyes, Hermione slowly reached down and brought up each of his hands, placing one on her hip and one on her naked breast. She could feel her nipple immediately spring to attention at his touch. Still, a small v formed between Draco's eyebrows and he looked unsure. Hermione brought her face down and allowed her lips to graze Draco's ear hotly.

"I want you inside of me."

This pushed Draco over the edge. He growled slightly before flipping Hermione onto her back so that he was placed between her legs. Hermione loved the weight of him on top of her and the feeling of his hard chest pressed against her breasts. She inhaled his scent unsteadily; he smelled of pepper, morning dew and his own particular musk. His hands slid up her smooth thigh and she gasped at the sensation of cold air as he hurriedly pulled down her boyshorts.

Hermione found it difficult to distinguish between the curse's effects and her own burning desire for him. She was almost certain that even if she weren't under the curse, she would have acted in exactly the same way.

Hermione brought a hand down to cup his hard on, placing it at her wet folds. Brown eyes met silver as they stared into each other's eyes. Hermione's lips turned up slightly at the corners as she nodded, and Draco thrust into her in one smooth motion, filling her to the hilt and causing Hermione's back to arch up in pleasure.

Draco could not believe how good it felt to be inside of her, to plunge into her honey depths and feel her body stretch around his member. He thrust into her again and again, breathing heavily, and relishing the way his name sounded on his lover's lips.

Hermione completely surrendered herself to his touch, marveling at how being with him could feel so right. She reached up and clutched at Draco's strong arms that were supporting him over her and relished the delicious friction his pelvis was creating, and how the spring in her belly wound tighter and tighter.

Finally, Hermione's eyes screwed up tightly as she arched into Draco's body and felt an enormous climax rip through her body. The poweful contractions pulsed through her belly, her pelvis, all the way down to her toes and she bit down on Draco's pale shoulder to keep from screaming out.

Feeling Hermione's hot walls pulsing around him was too much for Draco to bear. With one final thrust he pushed into her and called out her name.

In that moment he saw a million different Hermione's in his mind. Young Hermione, with bushy hair, boarding the Hogwarts Express. Hermione descending the staircase in a beautiful lilac dress at the Yule Ball. Hermione frowning in concentration as she stirred a cauldron. And his Hermione, the beautiful woman that she had become.

He felt spent as he collapsed above her. It was all he could do to turn on to his back and pull her on top of him, so she was cradled into his chest. They were both panting heavily, and a fine sheen of sweat shone on Draco's brow. He smoothed the hair away from Hermione's forehead and kissed her tenderly. Hermione sighed contentedly and nuzzled her face closer to him.

Draco worked hard to fix this moment in his memory. He knew no greater pleasure in his life than to have this gorgeous, intelligent creature sprawled out on his chest, to feel the rise and fall of her breasts against him, to be able to touch her silky locks and smell the overwhelming spice of cinnamon that always lingered on her skin. Who knew what Hermione would want or think of him once they had escaped. This could very well be the last time he would hold her this way.

He sighed at this morbid thought, and Hermione looked up at him, noticing his change of mood. She smiled at him questioningly and brought up her fingers to trace his beautiful lips that were swollen from their coupling.

Draco smiled sadly back at her and finally spoke. "Come on, let's get you out of here."

He disentangled himself from her and moved to get off of the couch. Hermione pouted, missing the warmth of his body, but her attention was immediately caught by what Draco was getting out of his bag.

Draco pulled out a large shirt, which he wrapped around Hermione before he got out his wand. He pulled Hermione up to stand and bent down as if to hug her in order to shield her body and his wand hand from the old fashioned video camera in the corner that was feeding back images to the guards on the ground level.

"You are free, Hermione," Draco whispered into her hair, before he spoke the apparation spell that would cause them to leave the brothel forever.

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Pansy sat in the dark broom closet, trying to repress a sob from ripping through the back of her throat. She touched the destroyed straps of her favorite dress and tried to smooth the creases of her skirt.

She had been so close to getting everything she had ever wanted. If she closed her eyes she could almost feel Draco's lips still on her neck, smell spicy, clean-boy-smell that wafted off of his luminescent skin. She sighed, letting the frayed straps of her green dress fall uselessly to her sides, and allowed the hot tears to roll down her face. She saw the dark, mascara laden droplets fall off of her chin and stain the material on her lap.

Well there was only one thing left to do. Her mother had always said, "Forgiveness is never an option. Get what you want or get even."

Who did he think he was? Pansy reminded herself that she was from a long, wealthy, and most importantly pureblood Slytherin line. The Parkinsons were every bit as prestigious and loyal to the Dark lord as the Malfoys were.

Pansy had always gotten what she wanted, except for where Draco was concerned. And if he didn't want her, if he would choose a filthy, mousy haired mudblood over her then he would have to suffer the consequences of crossing a Parkinson.

Oh yes, Draco was going to pay for this.

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